"Who dares disturb my rest?"
Alec fought the urge to roll his eyes, simply calling back, "Guess." The door flew open. "Alexander!" Magnus flashed him a grin, beckoning him in and shutting the door behind him.
He nearly had the smaller boy pinned at the edge of the door, his hands resting on the other's waist.
Magnus was leaning in, his breath sending shivers up Alec's spine, their lips nearly touching.
Alec didn't even lean out, simply muttered, "Is that my sweatshirt?"
Magnus was the one resisting to roll his eyes now. "Yes, Alexander. It's obviously not mine. Look at it." The Shadowhunter was so completely oblivious to all of the innuendos and moves Magnus made or spoke.
It was a grey sweatshirt- one that was big on Alec but fit Magnus well. "I don't see what's wrong with it," Alec shrugged, twisting his finger around a strip of the fading fabric.
"It's…not the greatest," Magnus offered, "But it's yours, and it reminds me of you, so I'm keeping it." He kept it for days when the waves of missing him were too much to handle; he kept it for days when he didn't know if things were going to be alright.
Alec gave a slight grin, cerulean eyes sparkling.
"Fine with me. I've got plenty." Plenty of the same, old raggedy sweatshirts, Magnus would say, but he didn't, for the sake of another argument on something as silly as clothing.
Alec leaned up and Magnus' breath hitched as Alec made their lips meet, only for a moment.
Even if it was only for a moment, Alec had taken charge. Alec never took charge, seemingly oblivious to anything even remotely sexual.
Magnus grinned as Alec took his hand and pulled him into the living room- "Come on, I've got something to tell you," Alec stated, at the same time Magnus chuckled, "Aren't we in a good mood today?"
And they were.